Forgiveness Chronicles
by Stef with an F
Summary: Barry confesses the truth to Iris in hopes to be set free. Forgiveness means more than saying you do. A story told in snippets throughout the season.
1. Forgiveness is More Than Saying Sorry

*************** I do not own the Flash! The first quote in the story was taken directly from 01x05 of the series. This was written in a fit of passion after what went down last Tuesday night on the CW. There is a dream reference to my other work of a similar name, but this story stands pretty well without it. I am considering some creative ways a speedy meta-human might offer his apologies to the love of his life so I can follow up this angst with something fluffy. Feel free to leave any ideas behind. Thank you for your curiosity! **************

"And I am asking you one last time to tell me what is really going on with you. Why am I the only one of us who is interested in this?"

As he scrubbed his fists over his face, words echoed around in the space between his ears. He thought of the encouraging words of Doctor Wells, of Joe, his father, but mainly of what Iris had said on the rooftop to the Streak about her friend losing his faith. There was no way he could risk Iris losing her faith in him for another second. Didn't he say to Joe earlier that the only way to stop her was to tell her the truth? Thinking quickly, he nicked the salt shaker off the table and began to spell out the words he'd promised never to say.

He sat back down in plenty of time to catch Iris' startled expression. She read the words aloud, her voice shaking slightly with the trepidation that comes with witnessing the impossible, "The secret was only to…protect you..? Barry, you're saying what I think you are saying? Seriously? This is why? I don't even – "

Cutting her off he mimicked the tone he achieved on the roof top by vibrating his vocal cords, "Joe and I kept everything a secret for your safety…" He'd hope to take the dull the harshness of the moment by making her laugh. Instead he could feel the change in her expression brewing like storm clouds on the horizon, like the chill growing steadily in the pit of his stomach.

Whether it was the guilt or his developing meta-human abilities he couldn't discern, but the silence as Iris seemed to stare through him was the most crisp he had ever experienced. Her dark eyes flashed over his hair, his own brighter ones, his hands where they fidgeted on the table top and back up again. Was she trying to read his body language for the signs she missed before?

Funny the stray thoughts one has in defining moments like these. Barry traced the hem of his shirt contemplating if he should show her his most notable physical difference since the lightening, but thought better of it. He silently placed his hand back in plain sight before she could think to notice anything amiss.

And there they measured one another; he looking for forgiveness, she lost in a storm of emotion. Barry had a few hundred visions of leaving the dining room table in a whoosh of air and sprinting anywhere, just anywhere else but here. Until Iris gave him permission, however, his penance would be to stay frozen in place.

Her forehead creased in a delicate frown between her brows and her hand shot up suddenly to cover her mouth. She took a deep breath and started out with a whisper that grew rapidly in volume, "Barry, my dream. I told you about my dream! Why did you flirt with me, then? After what I told the Streak about doing everything for you... was that some joke? What could you get out of that? I don't understand any of this!"

All the breath left out of him, as if he'd had any since pulling out a chair beside her. Rapidly he tried to grasp some alternate conclusion, but only the truth and nothing but the truth could give him any measure of credibility in her eyes. Blearily, he realized she was still speaking.

"All of this sneaking around, is this all that what going on with you? Forgive me if I'm not taking anything you say at face value right now."

His humiliation at the conversation was nearly complete when he felt a tale-tell prickling behind his eyes; tightening around his throat. He rubbed his hand over his forehead in a feeble attempt to stall what he had finally realized was the inevitable. He bit out the words out one by one, "I..I couldn't help myself, Iris. I love you, but it's more. It's always been you. I fantasized about confessing this so many times, and I never imagined getting it caught in lie. You deserve more, and if I would have known lying to you would hurt this much, I'd have never agreed. I would have told you how you make me feel that night before the coma instead of just being too scared and too slow."

Unable to face her he watched a couple salty tears drip off of the tip of his nose and land on the table top, everything once again in that same intolerable state of slow motion. He heard the scrape of her chair as she moved to get up, but instead of leaving he felt her arms loosely circle his neck and shoulders.

She couldn't process any of this right now - too much with too little warning. Reaching for him was more a reflexive action than seeking comfort for herself. With her chin resting on the top of his head, she spoke gently into his soft brown hair, "I don't even know what to make of all of this yet. I keep getting stuck on why? Why didn't you give me the chance? At keeping your secret, at figuring out your feelings, at anything. Loving you and Dad is a part of me that will never change. My heart's breaking with how disappointed I am in you right now. This will take time, Bear. I'll need time."

He turned in her arms, scooting the chair around to bury his face in her smooth stomach. Barry was too far gone to be ashamed any longer and much too thankful to hold back the little sighs of contentment at being so close with Iris. Eventually, he cinched his arms around her waist and she begin to lightly comb through his hair and rub soothing circles on his upper back with her fingers. He was prepared for anger, he'd expected for her to abandon him. But he should have known it would be like this. He'd long ago fell in love with her loyalty, this vulnerability with people she trusted. Iris was almost literally killing him with her kindness. With every breath it pierced the core of his being and he grew more possessive of her affection.

The impropriety of their positioning didn't even register to Iris until they heard Joe's keys scraping at the front door. She sprang back from him, no longer just Barry, but somehow an indescribably powerful man who was incomprehensively in love with her. Suddenly unable to get enough air where she stood, Iris snatched her jacket off the couch and dashed past her father out the door, calling out something about Jitters along the way.

Barry brushed the back of his hands across his face and with casual super speed dashed into the kitchen to get started on some brownies before Joe could corner him. Iris was right, forgiveness does takes time. But with anything possible, maybe, just maybe, he could speed the process enough to hold her in his arms again sooner rather than later.


	2. Make-Up to Make Up

Jitters. The name suddenly took on a different meaning for Barry as he pulled the door opened and scanned the coffee house for a flash of a mocha complexion or the swish of dark hair that meant Iris was on shift.

Since their talk the other day, she was not her vibrant self. To be fair, all the niceties had been observed. She was generous with her excuse me's and thank you's and helped him with the chores as always. But the heart of them wasn't beating up to its usual exuberance. His heart was breaking syllable by syllable these days. In a desperate bid to catch up with her between crime fighting and their jobs, he decided to grab a cup of coffee he wouldn't feel in hopes of getting the only real rush he could still feel; connection with the woman he loved.

A distinct splashing sound erupts from behind the area marked Personal Only. 'My hair!' was instantaneously screeched shrilly enough to cut through the soft jazz filtering in from the speakers. He closed his eyes in silent commiseration for her, because he knew who it had to be. Silently he backed out of line, seizing the opportunity for what it was: his first chance to earn some of her trust back. 

Before the lightening he had never considered himself vain, but as he raced through town at over three hundred miles per hour he rationalized he didn't see himself as worthy to show off before. But now? He couldn't think of anything that could beat this feeling. Though he wasn't saving lives or foiling muggers he felt just as vital racing home to grab an emergency cosmetic kit stashed in the cabinet under the sink in the upstairs bathroom for his Iris.

Dusting the sparks off of his sweater and shoes he looks both ways before leaving the pink, leopard spotted, fringe bag back it in the alley right next to the door. His recent crime fighting endeavors give him the boost of confidence he needed to casually bypass another Personal Only sign and head right into the Jitters kitchen area.

Scanning the kitchen he calls out, "Iris?"

"Hey Barry! She's in the bathroom freshening up," not nonplussed in the least to see him standing there, a young girl with glasses turned from where she was mopping up excess water around the floor near an industrial sink and waved.

"Thanks," he said smiling warmly.

She sets the mop against the wall and turns to manage the line at the front counter, "You're welcome, but please don't slip!" 

Nodding he turns down the hall and knocks hesitantly on the door of the small employee restroom.  
>"Uhrm, Iris?" he whispers, as if whispering will save him any embarrassment if it's not actually her in the restroom.<p>

"Barry? What are you doing back here?" she called through the door.

Smirking at his own cleverness he unconsciously pitched his voice lower as he attempted to speak in code, "I'm just a friend suggesting that you might want to take a look in the alley for a hidden Easter egg."

"…what?" she deadpanned.

Realizing that she was not her most patient considering the circumstances, he cleared his throat and elaborated. "Like a hidden level power-up…? Never mind. I just seem to recall you claiming never to, and I quote 'Stay frizzy, and or ashy, in this life time or the next' after that unfortunate week in eighth grade summer camp…"

He was sure she understood when she wedged the door open fast enough to startle him and shouldered by. He followed her at a more conventional pace and found that she already had her hair fish tailed down the side of her neck with a silky black headband smoothing the stray hairs off her forehead.  
>Sighing in relief, she snatched Barry's hands in hers. He could feel smeared remnants of the styling wax on her fingertips as she bounced on her toes.<p>

"Oh thank you! You are a life saver, Bear, literally!" She ended her impromptu happy dance with a fierce hug, fisting her small manicured hands in the sides of his sweater before chirping a thank you over her shoulder and dashing back inside to tame the coffee fueled fray.

He couldn't say what was accomplished exactly, but the warmth of her gratitude was slow to leave him. Looks like his metabolism would never be too fast to process the sugary sweet affection of Iris West. Whistling the Mario theme song, he snatched the pink bag back up and raced to put it back where it belonged before anyone could catch him holding a purse.


End file.
